Shelly
by Pale18
Summary: The fall of 1634 was the season John Quinn had a lovely journey with a black cat he called Shelly. Centuries later, he's living at Circle Daybreak and in love with Rashel Jordan, a woman with just as beautiful, adorable green-eyes.


**_A.N.) This idea has been in my head for a year at least, so I finally decided to get it down. I hope you guys like this._**

**_Also, I am sorry if anyone is offended by any of the content within the story._**

**_Disclaimer) I do not own Night World._**

Shelly

The fall of 1634 was one that John Quinn would have forgotten in 1639, when he became an immortal vampire. Not even a glimpse of importance would become apparent till centuries later when he met a green-eyed girl in a cellar that was about to end his existence, and then again when he would have to abduct and prepare another green-eyed girl for death of being drunk dry of blood (which he later found out that both girls were one in the same).

He had been thirteen years old, and the only child of Father Quinn, Boston's respected minister. He was a bit of a rebel to be a puritan, seeing that he dreamed of leaving his religion and going to live along the coastline and wilderness to fish with his very own schooner boat. As a puritan, let alone the son of a Father, devoting himself to God's will and Good Book should have been his main dreams and drive. This was sad because he didn't actually agree to everything his religion stated.

Like he didn't agree that man should expel all hedonist pleasures like love for another person. You can love the church and God, and maybe the trees because they were God's creation, but that was it. But that didn't make sense because men and wives should love each other, so why would the Ministers allow it if it was blasphemous?

He understood _why_ they elders adults spoke so ill of the Book of Sports despite being approved by the royal King James himself. The Book of Sports told people it was okay to dance, leap, and such on the Sabbath Day (Sunday). It was argued that Sunday was The Lord's Day, set aside for further emphasis on worship and prayer, so people shouldn't be _dancing_. Dancing was for heathens, his father told him when he explained. He said dancing was a sign of witchcraft and that if someone danced they were inviting the Devil to come so they could sign their allegiance.

But to him, dancing didn't feel like a big deal… and as a child with other dreams and an undeveloped attention span, he didn't feel great about having to sit on the uncomfortable wooden church benches to sing additional hymns and listen to another lengthy sermon.

Well, he supposed he'd have to thank God anyway for being able to have enough supper on the table and having him so healthy.

Maybe it was the fact that John had simply loved so much and enjoyed soft fur that he was able to be brave for her that day.

He and another boy his age was given permission by their parents to go fishing to bring back meat. Though it was sacrilege to think of competition and boastful pleasure, he aimed to catch more fish than any other so he could keep his reputation of being the best guy for fishing. The bay was extra kind to him that day. In just one hour, he already filled one of his mother's baskets with fresh catch.

"God has given you quite a haul there, John," said Thomas, the only boy that John favored to socialize with more than the others, because he was the only one that didn't try to get good favor of Father Quinn out of him.

John smiled with pride (which was a sin, but no one would dare accuse him). He noticed from where they sat on the sand, his hook had traveled far into deeper water while Thomas's was still at shallow ends. Maybe God _was_ smiling down on him today. His luck was only assured when his hook and line dunked under the surface and was being tugged. John wasted no time reeling in his newest catch, which turned to be his largest fish yet. The slightly orange fish splashed the waters in a futile attempt to escape. The sea water was thrown at Thomas, leaving him soaked.

John's friend wiped his saturated brown hair from his face. "Maybe God has a grudge with me today…" the boy mumbled before chuckling at his silly appearance.

"Well, you did laugh during the sermon today," John replied grinning.

"Well how could I _not_? The Father said that we, as God's creations, should worship unconditionally so that one day we may join him at the bosom of His loving embrace!"

"How does that get chuckles out of you?"

"When I meet God, I want to meet his _face_. Not his bosom!"

These boys were indeed great friends built with trust. This conversation would get both of them wiped surely, but it was good to know neither would rat out the other. Was that technically lying, John thought. Because if it was, wasn't he breaking a commandment?

Another hour and it was barely noon. John filled another basket and decided to give the rest of his catches Thomas, who only filled half a basket. That was what friends were for, right?

In the middle of sitting on the shore, waiting to see who would get the next catch, John felt something poking him on the leg. Cool and calm he looked to his side to see a cream colored seashell large enough to cover his entire hand. When did that get there?

This didn't seem to alarm him even when he noticed the shell was _moving_.

So what? It was just a hermit crab, probably. But, John thought for a moment, shell fish might make a good offering to Father…

He put his fishing rod in one hand before reaching down and lifted the shell to find that it wasn't a crab, but instead, a little black cat was underneath.

"Thomas, looked at this," John started, dropping his rod and shell, and held the kitty up to show. "It's a little cat." He didn't notice the cat wasn't paying attention to the boys, but was pawing at something close by.

Thomas jerked his head, excited but shrieked when he saw this particular cat.

"What are you doing, Man? Throw it somewhere! Get rid of it!"

"Why?" John blinked.

"_Why?_ It's a _black_ cat! It could be a witch in disguise!"

John adjusted his hold on the feline so he could look straight into her flaring, dark green eyes. "Are you a witch?" he asked her playfully. She didn't even seem to care what they thought of her; all she cared about was getting her paws to the source of an intoxicating, delicious scent. Intrigued, John followed her gaze that happened to be glaring at his baskets of fish.

John scoffed. "She's not evil, Thomas. She's just hungry." He placed the kitty down and watched her happily pad her way to gnawing on one of the freshest fishes.

"I think there's something wrong with her back, John," Thomas said pointing to her.

"Hm…?" John looked and saw what he was talking about. This little kitty had some kind of scar or healing burn to distinguish itself from the rest of the black fur, covered in sand and dust. "What about it?"

Thomas, being the idiot he was, attempted to wear a paranoia crazed face. "Are you sure that isn't the mark of heathen witch taken the form of a kitten to trick us?" he asked urgent.

Now that the cat had food in her system and actually paid attention to what was being said, it became apparent the she didn't like what Thomas was accusing her of. John watched with an amusing grin of the little kitty charging at Thomas to release her fury. As poor Thomas screamed at John to help him, he just sat back with admiration.

"This kitten has claws, doesn't she, Thomas?" he asked, mocking the boy.

"Get her off me!"

John laughed. "Come on, kitty. Let your helpless prey go."

To his surprise, the cat obeyed him, and soon left her new large play-toy to relax on John's lap.

"Devil Cat," Thomas grumbled, bitter as he composed himself. "She seems to like you."

John stroked her soft fur knowing it was sin to enjoy it, but didn't find it important enough to care. "I like her," he started. "What shall I call you?" He peered down at her big green-eyes and decided she was absolutely adorable.

"Call her Shelly!" Thomas exclaimed, suddenly excited.

John raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because you found her hiding under a seashell, of course!"

It was stupid reasoning in John's eyes but he looked down at his new friend and asked, "Are you going to attack me if I call you Shelly?" Shelly meowed and burrowed herself in John's stomach.

"_Three weeks, ye gods! Nay, three long years it seems, /since roast beef I have touched, except in dreams! /In sleep, choice dishes to my view repair! /Waking, I gape, and champ the empty air!" _Thomas sang with the most delighted sarcasm. "You get that song sort of, huh Shelly?"_  
_  
John sweatdropped. "That's wicked…"

* * *

John was very happy the rest of that autumn. That first day, he left Shelly with some extra fish on the shore, expecting to never see her again since animals were primitive to humans, who were divine enough to be created in God's image as the Bible said. (Which confused him, because as a puritan, they were not supposed to think themselves even close to resembling something as holy as the Father up in Heaven, but he digressed.) Animals did not have the mental capacity to have any human feelings so he didn't think she was that attached to him as he was to her.

However, he was gladly wrong when he laid to rest for the night he felt something warm cuddling on his stomach. He looked and saw nothing but huge, lovable green-eyes piercing through the darkness. It was a good thing he kept the window open in case he was mistaken on Shelly's loyalty.

She'd leave in the mornings, so Father Quinn never discovered his sinful behavior of taking a type of ownership over a furry animal. The puritan society frowned upon having attachment to anything in the slightest materialistic, which was why he was the only boy to have a pet and why only Thomas knew about Shelly.

John and Shelly were the best of friends, going everywhere together. When he went to the market, he could see Shelly following from the rooftops like any hunter. When he'd walk through the woods, Shelly would pad alongside him, or have him carry her. Sometimes she'd wonder off and bring him a recently caught dead bird as a present. Though he'd gasp and scold her about how gross that was, he'd always feel guilty, then coddle and snuggle her. Who could possibly stay mad at such sad, adorable eyes?

"Maybe you _are_ an enchantress, Shelly," he said to her at one point. All he could do was smile at her cute little glare.

He found that Shelly had a fascination with water. Obviously this came as a surprise since cats are known to loath the very presence of water, but as winter approached, so did the rain. He kept Shelly in his room on the top floor of his father's house (conveniently put next to church) during the heavy fall, but afterwards, Shelly loved to go play in puddles.

John was more than ecstatic to learn this. In his mind, this was God's sign of telling him he could take Shelly with him when he finally accomplished his dream of owning a fishing schooner.

He loved this cat with the closest bond of a one true best friend of sorts, where he loved her just for existing and she would remain loyal to him.

That's why it hurt so much when the coldest front of winter came, and Shelly started to get weak.

Her paws were bothering her so she didn't walk much. It hurt to the point where she wouldn't move even to eat or drink. She couldn't stay in Boston anymore, or at least until the rest of winter. She wasn't a cat made for such cold.

He held onto her for hours and cried on her fur when it occurred to this becoming-fourteen year old that he'd have to let her go if he wanted her to live. He just couldn't take it at times when he began looking for a way to get her down to the more southern settlements, where it was warmer.

Eventually, John found out the Fuller family was heading down south and more inland to find a warmer environment for their frail grandmother to live more comfortably. Right when the family was packed and ready in a carriage, John hid Shelly on the back and told her to stay on the carriage and get off only when she was in danger of being discovered.

The family was going to leave soon and Shelly understood this was goodbye; she looked as sad as he was (but he didn't cry again because he was in public).

"Just promise you'll come find me eventually…?" John offered only partly believing that was possible, but Shelly's optimistic "Meow!" was enough to give him hope. For once, he truly prayed to God he'd have mercy on him, and bring her to him again one day.

The Fuller family approached after the father said farewell to Father Quinn. It was time for John to official leave her now so he could go meet the family off…

He could feel his heart wrenching away and a large swell in his throat when he looked back to see Shelly's beautiful green-eyes still watching him as he left her. He had to remind himself that this was so she could live, but it still hurt—a lot. His childlike mind convinced him that they'd always be together.

Four years later John Quinn would be changed into a vampire by Hunter Redfern. His father would kill Dove and try to kill him. He'd swear eternal hatred against the human race. Finally, he'd block out everything that held him to his former life, even the fall of 1634 and especially the painful winter of 1634.

It had been years anyway. As an adult, he had to face the facts that Shelly was probably living in a forest and forgotten all about him, or she was dead.

* * *

Quinn woke from his sleep almost sad to have relived a blocked memory from his childhood, but happy. He was extremely happy, and excited. Sure, even the horrible parts of his past were still real, but if he was waking up in a bed at Thierry's mansion nearly four hundred years later, then so were the best parts real. He found his soulmate, Rashel Jordan, the most beautiful, deadliest, compassionate woman he'd even known. He loved every inch of her from her sarcastic attitude to her adorable way of freaking out when she was asked to do girly-girl things with the other females of the mansion to her big, cute cat-green eyes.

He loved her so much… So much it hurt. Like how it hurt to love that little kitty.

If he didn't know any better, he'd figure that Rashel and Shelly had been… well, the same… But that wasn't possible...

It took a minute to register that it was so early the sun wasn't even up, so he'd have to be careful as he shifted from laying his back to his side so he wouldn't be disturbing the gorgeous woman sleeping peacefully beside him. Not wasting any time, Quinn pulled Rashel so her back was to his front; her nightshirt had been the layer that blocked her skin from his bare chest. The very contact made the soulmate link between them spark with a frenzy that was the gateway to a blissful paradise with the woman he loved.

Quinn could see her dreams after a few minutes (and he could alter them a little, which was fun). She dreamt of him and her walking through rain puddles in a rich forest, lots and lots of rain puddles. Then Quinn groaned when he caught a glimpse of Timmy and some one of their friends in the dream. That was his cue to go in and be the man to make this dream about just him and her. His feet touched to cold soil of recent rainfall, and after a few conscious tweaks, everyone but Quinn and Rashel disappeared. She noticed the change and turned to his approaching form.

"I love you so much, Rashel, my kitty," he told her as he pulled her into a close embrace. This was where Quinn was at an advantage. In her dreams, Rashel would not try to keep such an anti-touching policy and was more forgiving with his little pet names for her. If she was awake, he'd only get a scoff and no action.

To see her blush and shyly smile at him, made him feel that every second of living without her was well worth it because he ended up finding her. She was just as in love with him as he was with her.

This is perfect, he thought.

"I love you too, John," she said back at him, leaning up to meet him halfway for a heavy, passionate kiss.

_Now _this is perfect!

"Where the hell were you for over three centuries…?" Quinn murmured dreamily while brushing his lips with hers.

She pulled away to laugh at his question. "I didn't _exist_, John!"

He didn't care that she wasn't supposed to answer that, because the sight of her smiling and laughing was more than enough to make him die happy.

"Of course you didn't, Kitten, but…" He jerked her forward so he could kiss her with a bit more hunger than before. "We still have over three hundred years of lifetime to make up for. So…" He smirked down at her surprised, cute eyes. "Let's get to work."

* * *

**_A.N.) I hope everyone got all the references I put in here. I worked really hard to make this the best it could possibly be, so please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!_**

**_Have a good morning!_**


End file.
